


Winter's Rose

by NoScrubs12345



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works
Genre: Breastfeeding, M/M, Post Mpreg, Preterm Birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 11:53:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2149788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoScrubs12345/pseuds/NoScrubs12345
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Their daughter is born two months too early, in the middle of winter when the snow drifts high and the light breaking through grey clouds is a dim farce of Anor's usual brilliance.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter's Rose

**Author's Note:**

> *plops down a box of tissues* Oh sweet Eru, I have _no_ idea where all this angst came from! I needed a break from working a longer fic, and this just sort of, well, happened.

Their daughter is born two months too early, in the middle of winter when the snow drifts high and the light breaking through grey clouds is a dim farce of Anor's usual brilliance. Erestor blames himself as he cradles her to his unclothed chest, tears falling silently as Merilwen fusses and cries and refuses to suckle. Even as close as he sits to the fire, his skin slippery with sweat, she shivers and shrinks into her blankets, the thickest and warmest to be found amongst the households of Gondolin.

Glorfindel’s hands are chilled from the wind and snow as they settle on his shoulders, icy fingers biting at overheated skin. Balancing Merilwen in the crook of one arm, Erestor seizes one of those strong hands, nails biting into honeyed skin. Glorfindel clings back just as fiercely, leaning in to kiss away the salty streams from the nearest cheek. 

His hand easily dwarfs Merilwen’s tiny frame as one callused finger strokes her cheek, the sight wringing a new sob from Erestor. But he breathes a little easier, tears running with relief and something akin to joy, as she grips her ada's finger, deceptively strong in spite of her size, and tilts her head to finally begin to feed.


End file.
